


Define Dancing

by rosegoldroman



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: M/M, also super fluffy, and yes the title is based off of wall-e, like itll give you cavities, more logince because i am trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 18:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13082604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosegoldroman/pseuds/rosegoldroman
Summary: Roman realizes just how over-worked Logan is and decides to take him on an adventure.





	Define Dancing

Knock, knock, knock.

  
Three loud knocks echoed their way through Logan’s room, through the soft piano music playing through his headphones, and a call a moment later: “Logan?” He didn’t look up from the notes on the desk in front of him, didn’t respond beyond a grunt as he scanned lines and lines of theories and possibilities with tired eyes, didn’t stir as the door opened and someone made their way inside.

“What have you been doing in here, specs?” Roman asked, striding up to him with one eyebrow raised, his arms crossed over his chest, his voice filled with his own special boisterous kind of concern. “We haven’t seen you all day — and, dare I say it, I believe we’ve missed your nerdy ramblings.”

  
Logan didn’t respond beyond a nod towards his work, reaching up to readjust his glasses as his mind untangled a particularly difficult equation. The desk in front of him was cluttered, covered in papers and pens and books and all manner of nerdy things — everything that he needed to work through one of Thomas’ problems, to finally find a solution.

  
Roman made a dissatisfied noise, annoyed at the lack of response. He shifted from one foot to the other, leaning over Logan’s shoulder to gaze at the pile of notes. “Is this what you’ve been working on all day?” he asked, craning his neck to look at Logan’s face. His eyes narrowed; slowly, he straightened up, and Logan could feel his glare on the back of his neck.

  
It was obvious that Roman had seen Logan’s bloodshot eyes and mussed hair, the bags under his eyes and the stress in the tight line of his mouth, and it was also obvious that he didn’t like that very much — but Logan didn’t have time to care about what Roman liked or didn’t like, not when he was  _so close_  to a breakthrough.

  
“Alright, you’re done.”

  
Logan’s pencil stalled in the middle of writing, and he turned to look up at Roman. “No,” he said, and to his relief his voice didn’t sound nearly as tired as he felt. “I’m not done yet.”

  
In one quick movement, Roman snatched the pencil from his hands, and Logan whipped around, his mouth wide open and ready to protest — but Roman cut him off, shaking his head and tutting. “You’re going to end up killing yourself,” he said, shoving the pencil in his back pocket so Logan couldn’t get to it.

  
“We are facets of a personality, Roman. We cannot die unless Thomas does.”

  
“Hush, nerd,” Roman said. Logan shook his head, turning back to his desk and pulling another pencil out of a drawer. Roman made a sound between a gasp and a growl and snatched that one as well.

  
“Stop!” Roman cried as Logan simply reached into the drawer again, producing another pencil from its wooden depths. He sighed, rolled his eyes, ran a hand through his hair and looked at the ceiling like he was praying for strength, and then fixed Logan with a stern glare. “You’re done, Logan. That’s enough.”

  
“Roman, I cannot be ‘done’ yet. I have to —”

  
“—Take a break,” Roman finished. “You have to take a break. Get up.”  
Logan would have protested — but Roman’s voice left no room for arguments; he got to his feet with a sigh and stood before Roman with his arms crossed over his chest. “I need to solve this problem for Thomas,” he said, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “I cannot take a break, I’m close to completing this.”

  
“What you need to do is stop over-working yourself. You’re of no use to Thomas if you can’t function.”

  
That was logical. Logan would have felt proud if he wasn’t so intent on getting back to work. So he ignored the logic in the statement and tapped his foot impatiently and tried to think of a way to convince the prince — but his brain had been fried, sauteed in a gravy of math and logic and left on the grill too long until it had burned to a crisp; and he, as logic, could not think logically, couldn’t get his brain to work through the fog of stress and exhaustion, and that was a terrifying concept. So maybe Roman  _did_  have a point, though Logan loathed to admit it.

“Fine,” he relented with a heavy sigh. “I suppose you do have a point.”

  
“Of course I do,” Roman said, tilting his head up confidently. “Now, come along, pocket protector.” He took Logan by the hand and began leading him through the room, towards the bedroom door. 

  
“Where are we going?” Logan asked, reaching behind his glasses to rub the blurry spots from his vision.

  
“To take a break,” he said, a hint of excitement in his voice. “This is something I’ve been wanting to show off for a  _while_ , but Patton is cooking right now, and Verge is too busy being an Emo.” He set his hand on the doorknob as Logan wondered how he’d managed to audibly capitalize an E, and pulled open the door with a dramatic flourish.

_Woah_.

Logan’s breath left him in one swift whoosh of amazement.

  
Gone was the hallway outside his door — instead a sea of velvety black met his eyes, an ocean of dark filled with brilliant twinkling spots of golden light. The galaxy itself had taken residence in the space outside his room. He could feel its pull as he stood in the doorway — but it wasn’t the pull of an endless cold vacuum; it was the pull of something different, a feeling akin to that of learning something new, to that of pure discovery. It was  _wonder_ , pure and simple; he tilted his head to one side and furrowed his brow, gazing out into the endless sea of ethereal beauty.

  
Roman released his hold on Logan’s hand, took a step back and then sprung forwards with an excited whoop. He dived through the doorway as though he was diving into a pool, allowed the lack of gravity to catch him and send him floating off into space.

  
“Amazing what a little creativity will do, huh?” Roman asked, his grin proud and ecstatic as he did a dramatic spin through the zero-gravity. “What are you waiting for?”

  
Logan lingered in the doorway, his eyes wide as he watched Roman aimlessly float away. By all accounts, this shouldn’t be logically possible — but wasn’t that the point? He’d been marinating in nothing but logic for the entire day, for a long enough time that he, as logic, had gotten sick of thinking logically; something illogical and fantastical might be a nice break, wouldn’t it? What  _was_  he waiting for?

  
The answer, he found, was nothing. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips; he felt a bit of that exhaustion melting away. He let go of the door-frame and slowly, carefully, stepped through the doorway.

  
The change was immediate. He had to hold onto his glasses to keep them from floating off his face as his tie floated upwards and whacked him in the nose. The knot of stress in his stomach seemed to loosen as he floated up and away from the door, farther into the sea of stars, cushioned by the soft lack of gravity.

  
“There we go,” Roman said, floating towards him. “Now, isn’t this better, Spock?”  
Logan ignored the nickname and nodded.

“This is… Interesting,” he admitted, and there was a twinge of awe in the soft lilt of his voice, a sparkle of wonder in his chocolate eyes that made Roman’s heart flutter with pride. “How did you —”

  
“Imagination, my dear nerd.” He floated backwards, and offered his hand to Logan. There was a princely smirk on his face, utter confidence in the jaunty tilt of his head, and his smile grew as he asked, “are you coming?”

  
“Coming where?” Logan asked, as he tried to tangle his glasses in his hair to keep them from floating away.

  
“On an adventure.”

  
He looked at Roman’s outstretched hand, and then at his face, framed with a halo of golden brown hair as it floated around his head, illuminated by starlight, and wondered: what did he have to lose? Then he took the outstretched hand and found that Roman’s excitement was infectious, found that there was a smile growing on his face as Roman led him out into the sky.

  
And so they floated. The space around them was horribly inaccurate, Logan knew — horribly inaccurate but still  _beautiful_ , still awe-inspiring. The problem that had caused him so much stress seemed so small now;  _he_  seemed so small now, so tiny among this endless void of galaxies, planets and stars and all manner of incredible things. Roman led him towards the brightest part of the sky, a cluster of golden stars, humming a familiar song as they floated closer.

With his free hand, he reached towards the glowing cluster, wiggling his fingers dramatically. He looked at Logan with a wide grin on his face as a tiny star broke away from the group and began to float towards them.

  
Roman took Logan’s other hand, cupped them with his own and allowed the star to gently land inside his palms. It was amazing; glowing yellow and white and twinkling magnificently, it was warm in his palms and seemed to send waves of relaxation through his whole body.

  
Logan only had eyes for the star in his hands, his face washed in golden light, his eyes shining with awe, but Roman — Roman only had eyes for Logan. There was an intense realization on his face — realization and shock and something else, something softer and fonder that turned his grin into a gentle smile, a smile without a hint of smugness or pride.

  
Logan looked up, and Roman quickly changed his expression back to a prideful one, silently prayed that Logan hadn’t noticed the severe fondness that he’d held — but Logan was  _grinning_ , no hint of suspicion or confusion in his eyes — and Roman’s heart fluttered at the sight of the normally calm man so flustered and excited.

  
“Roman, this is —” He stopped, lost for words. “I —”

  
Roman laughed at his inability to speak — because how many times had he managed to get Sir Speaks a Lot speechless? Surely he could count the times on one hand. “I know, nerd,” he said. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

  
Logan could only nod, returning his attention to the twinkling star in his hands, and as Roman gazed at the man in front of him an amazing thought came to mind. What better way to end an interstellar, stress-killing adventure than with dancing? He  _was_  a prince, after all — dancing was sort of his thing.

  
So he cleared his throat and lifted one hand, sending the star floating above them so it could send its warm light across the both of them, and offered Logan a rare completely-kind smile. “Want to dance?”

  
Logan returned his gaze to Roman, tilting his head to one side in thought. “I don’t know how to dance,” he said, shaking his head. Roman chuckled.

  
“I’ll teach you,” he said with a smile. “Come on, specs — live a little!”

  
He thought for a moment, biting his lip — and then he nodded. Roman took his hands, setting one on his shoulder and another around his waist; both began to blush, though it was hidden in the star’s light. “Just follow my lead,” Roman said softly, and they began to dance.

  
Logan was awkward and stiff, focused intently on doing was Roman was doing, on dancing as perfectly as he could — but as time went on, as Roman twirled him through the galaxy, he relaxed, allowing himself to get lost in the movement, in the feeling rather than the thoughts. It was an amazing feeling, dancing in the weightlessness of space, dancing in each others’ arms, surrounded by the glow of a thousand stars.

  
With a mere thought, Roman was able to fill the mindscape with a familiar tune, and they danced and twirled along to the swells of the soft song. The song was reaching its climax — beautiful sounds floating around them — and another crazy, wonderful idea came to Roman. He spun Logan away from him, and then pulled him back, and their lips collided in a soft, unsure kiss as the music swelled dramatically.

  
Logan pulled away a moment later, his eyes wide. Roman mirrored his expression. There was a second of silence, a moment where neither knew what to do — and then Logan shot forward and connected their lips once more.

  
And there they stood, among the stars, their bodies and their souls intertwined, and there they stayed until they needed to breath. When Logan pulled away, his face was flushed and his eyes were wide — and he was smiling lopsidedly, a new kind of happiness in his eyes that Roman had never seen before.

  
Roman was grinning, too, as he raised his hand and brought back the door. “Ready to get back to work?” he asked, his voice breathy and awed, pushing them towards the door.

  
“I —” He stopped, took a breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yes. Yes, I think I can work now. Thank you, Roman.”

  
“You’re welcome,” Roman said with a laugh, letting go of Logan as they landed on his bedroom floor. Logan readjusted his glasses, put his tie back in place, his face still red and still stretched in a wide, happy grin. He leaned back up, connecting their lips one more time in a quick, soft kiss, and then turned on his heel and retreated back into his bedroom.

  
Roman reopened the door, and the hallway materialized into view. He closed Logan’s door behind him as he stepped outside, and slumped against it, his breath leaving him in a low, amazed whistle. Who knew that nerds were such good kissers? Slowly, softly, he reached up and touched his hand to his lips, and smiled.

  
He had to get Logan to take breaks more often


End file.
